


Identical

by brightlikeloulou



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: (brothers) Getting to Know Each Other, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship (Daryl/Jesus), Jesus has ADHD, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, M/M, Malcolm & Jesus are identical twins, Past Child Abuse/Neglect, hence the really shitty fic title, set after all-out-war but no whisperers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-07 16:16:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18876712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightlikeloulou/pseuds/brightlikeloulou
Summary: Jesus had heard the sound of someone screaming for help many times before, and he hadn't always been able to help.But this time, stood on the roof of a building in the city that he was meant to be raiding, he knew he could help the man below who clearly couldn't stand and was being surrounded by walkers. He knew that he couldn't live with himself if he didn't do anything.Nothing could have prepared him for who that man was.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to me in a very broken and confusing dream, so I rewrote it and changed it into this!
> 
> I'm holding off on writing my actual desus Prodigal Son AU (which will be based in the prodigal son's show universe) until we get more information on the plot, and what Malcolm's character is like. So, this is to hold me, and you guys over until then!
> 
> Also, I'll probably add more tags.
> 
> Also, I'll specify it right here, just in case there's anyone into that sort of thing who might ask for it, Malcolm and Jesus will NOT have any form of sexual relationship, in this fic, or any other Prodigal Son AU/Crossover that I write x

Paul worried at his bottom lip as he leaned over the edge of the roof. He could see all the walker's beneath, filling the street. He'd escaped the same herd only an hour earlier. He was in Richmond, by himself (despite Daryl's protests) for four days now. He raided buildings during the day, and then took his finds back to his car for where he'd stay for the night.

Daryl was pissed as hell at him for going without him, Daryl was out of action due to breaking his ankle a few days before they were set to leave for the city, but Paul had decided to go anyway, despite knowing how dangerous the city was, especially alone. He knew it was selfish to leave Daryl with the injury he had, but he felt guilty, it had been his fault it was broken. They'd been out in fields just beyond a section of the woods and riding their designated horses. Paul had challenged Daryl to a race, and they'd been galloping the horses across the length of the field when a walker came out from behind long grass, and Daryl's horse spooked, sending Daryl to the ground where Paul heard a loud crack along with a cry of pain from his boyfriend. Leaving him like that, was an example of why Paul thought he was a shit boyfriend, he usually tried his best though, but how stir crazy he was behind the walls, and that he was out of his medication, had caused him a moment of weakness.

Paul's eyes fell on the man in the middle of the walkers. His back was to him, he was sat on his ass, and had a gun raised shooting at the walkers as they came to him. He had good aim, not missing even one, but it was clear to Paul that he couldn't stand for some reason, an injury no doubt, and Paul could see the number of walkers making their way down the street next street, and they'd be joining the man in no more than five minutes.

He took a moment to check his knives, the ammo he had in the one gun he carried. He preferred his knives over a gun any day, but Daryl had been pissed at him enough, and it would only add fuel to the fire if he didn't take at least one.

Paul made his way to the fire escape and started to jog down the stairs as quietly as he could. He didn't want to draw any attention to himself before he was on the ground. It took him less than a minute to get on the street, and he pulled out his knife and took out the first walker that had noticed him. His timing seemed to be perfect, he heard the man curse followed the by the click of an empty gun; he was out of ammo.

Paul pulled his own gun out, and threw it to him as he passed him, "Cover me!" he shouted, stabbing his knife into a walker and making his way further down his street as he continued to stab and slash at them. He wanted to take out as many on the street as he could, so he could go back to the man and safely get him back into the building that Paul had just been in. There was another exit they could take to get back to the car, Paul was due to get back to The Hilltop anyway.

It took several moments, but he could hear gunshots from behind him, and some of the walkers around him began to fall to the ground in heaps. Paul spent several more minutes clearing the street as much as he could, there were cars across the street about halfway down which the herd of walkers coming from the other direction would have to figure out how to go around before they got to them, so Paul wanted to clear all the ones before the cars.

"Let's go!" Paul shouted, stabbing the last walker and then beginning to job back to the other man, keeping his head turned over his shoulder to keep an eye on the still approaching walkers.

He got about ten meters from the man before his eyes fell on the man's face, and he realized what he was looking at.

He was looking at himself. Himself with short hair and stubble instead of a beard, but the facial features were exactly the same. His lips parted, and his eyes widened, his heart thumping in his chest as he stared at the man who wore a similar expression to his own.

His mouth was dry, and he attempted to swallow the lump in his throat, "Who the fuck are you?" he almost hissed, walking forward to the man just to snatch his gun out of his hand, and then point it at him.

The man's eyes fell to the gun, and he raised his hands, "Trust me, I'm just as confused as you are," he said, his voice weak and shaky, as he looked past him to the walkers Paul could now hear were at the cars, if not already past them, "My name's Malcolm Bright,"

Paul looked back to the walkers, they were beginning to squeeze past the cars, he glanced down the man's legs, looking for an injury, and he found that his ankle was twisted at an odd angle.

"Paul Rovia, my friends call me Jesus," he replied and then shoved his gun back into the holster on his pants, they needed to get inside. He reached down to the man, and wrapped an arm around his waist and quickly pulled him up, "We need to go,"

 

* * *

 

"This exit that comes out on another street, I checked from the roof, it's clear apart from one or two walkers, but with how many gunshots you let off, they'll be hundreds here within the hour," Paul said as he sat Malcolm down on a chair by the door that led onto the street.

They'd got back inside without any dramas, and Paul had helped Malcolm hobble through the building that used to be an office of some sort until they got to where they needed to be.

"Whatever you think is best," Malcolm replied, pain clear in his voice as he tried to very carefully rest his foot on the ground, "I don't know my way around here very well,"

"I used to here in the city, before the outbreak," Paul said offhandedly as he placed his pack down on a nearby desk and began to ruffle through it, "So, I know it well, this area of it at least," he said. His old apartment was just a few blocks over as a matter of fact.

"I grew up in New York,"

Paul didn't reply and pulled out a bottle of water from his pack before stepping back over to Malcolm. He handed him the bottle of water and then squatted down in front of him.

"We'll talk later, we need to get somewhere safe first," Paul grunted as Malcolm began to gulp down the water. It was partially true, but he also couldn't handle whatever the fuck was happening right now.

"Right," Malcolm said as Paul began undoing the laces on his boot, "It's dislocated, do you know how to pop it back in?"

Paul nodded and very carefully started to pull the boot of the man's foot, hearing him hiss in pain. He got the boot off after a few moments, and placed it on the desk beside his pack, along with his sock when he rolled it off his foot. Malcolm's foot was starting to swell, and Paul could clearly see the bone in the wrong place.

Paul placed his hands on his ankle, "On three," he said, looking up at the man after a moment, his stomach panging as soon as his eyes settled on his face. Malcolm nodded, and reached down to squeeze the sides of the chair, as Paul started to count, "Three," Paul said when he reached it and pushed.

"Fuck!" Malcolm cried as his ankle popped back into place.

Paul reached for his sock and carefully slid it back on before standing up again. He shoved Malcolm's boot into his pack and then took back the drink bottle he'd given him, took the last mouthful and then did the same. He shrugged the pack onto his back and then helped Malcolm stand again.

"My car's two blocks over, and then my community's about two and a half hours away," he told Malcolm as he held him steady against his side and opened the door, poking his head out and letting out a breath of relief when he saw there weren't any walkers around.

"Community?" Malcolm asked as they made their way outside, hobbling along beside Paul.

"Yeah," Paul said, "Heard of the historical mansion Barrington House?" he asked, and Malcolm shook his head, "Yeah, I hadn't either. Anyway, there are walls surround the main mansion, and we have built other smaller houses, along with some trailers that still function. We've got gardens, livestock, a windmill," he said.

"Sounds too good to be true," Malcolm mumbled, Paul chanced a glance over at him, found his face was screwed up in pain, so Paul slowed his pace a little.

"Well, we've been through a lot of shit to keep it,"

"I can imagine,"

 

* * *

  

They weren't far from The Hilltop when Paul pulled the car over to the side of the road. Malcolm had been asleep in the passenger seat pretty much since Paul first sat him down in it, so they hadn't had a chance to talk, which Paul wasn't complaining about. He was still very overwhelmed.

The car coming to a stop was enough to wake Malcolm though, "We're there?" he asked, sitting up straighter and running a hand through his messy hair and placing a hand over his own pack, which he'd kept in his lap.

"Radio range," Paul replied, opening his door and stepping out, stretching his arms above his head for a moment before he opened the back door and ruffled through his pack which was on the seat. He grabbed out the radio, along with some water and his bottle of pills. He had painkillers, but they were in the trunk, beneath a bunch of other stuff; otherwise, Paul would have given them to Malcolm.

He leaned against the side of the car and placed a pill on his tongue and washed it down with some water.

"What are those?" Malcolm asked curiously.

"Adderall," Paul said as he fiddled with the radio.

"ADHD?"

"Yep,"

"Huh," Malcolm said thoughtfully, "I had that as a kid, but my symptoms got better as I got older. Stopped needing the meds for it about ten years ago,"

"I wasn't that lucky," Paul mumbled, and then lifted the radio towards his mouth, "Jesus, to Hilltop. Come in Hilltop,"

"Go ahead," Kal's voice greeted him a few seconds later.

"I'm half an hour away and bringing a guest back with me. He's safe but injured, and we'll need a wheelchair waiting at the gate, tell Siddiq to prepare for a dislocated ankle, but I've popped it back in,"

"Alright, what's his name?"

Paul pulled open the car door and slid back inside, looking at Malcolm for a moment. It was still unsettling to see a face identical to his own, "Malcolm Bright," he said.

"Alright, anything else?" Kal said.

Paul sighed, and he kept his eyes on Malcolm as he spoke again, "Yeah," he started, "So Daryl and Maggie don't have heart attacks, warn them that he's my twin brother,"

It was silent for a while, "Sorry, can you repeat that, Jesus?" Kal said, and even through the distortion of the radio, Paul could make out he sounded confused as hell.

"Malcolm's my twin, let Maggie and Daryl know that. We'll be there soon," Paul repeated himself, and then tossed the radio back onto the backseat before putting the car in drive again.

"I guess that's the elephant in the room," Malcolm huffed, relaxing back in his seat.

"Yeah, no shit," Paul mumbled and pulled back onto the road.

 

* * *

 

Malcolm had managed to stay awake on the way back to The Hilltop, and Paul almost smirked at how he was looking around the community, fascinated as he parked inside the walls.

"Holy shit," Malcolm said.

Paul turned the car off and then got out. He looked towards Barrington House and found Maggie and Daryl were already making their way towards him. He felt a pang of guilt at the sight of Daryl on his crutches, wearing a pair of drawstring shorts as he couldn't fit his usual jeans over his cast.

Kal jumped down from the guard tower, "Hey," he greeted him, reaching for the wheelchair just off to the side and rolling it towards the side of the car that Malcolm was sat in.

"Hey," Paul replied and pulled the door open. He helped Malcolm out of the car, and then Kal helped him sit him down in the wheelchair.

Maggie and Daryl managed to reach them, and Paul looked at Maggie, though she and Daryl's eyes were glued to Malcolm.

"Well, this is a great first impression," Malcolm said, folding his hands over his pack and smiling at the people who had gathered around him.

Paul looked down at him, and Malcolm smirked up at him, "Kal will take you to the med trailer, and Siddiq will fix up your ankle. I'll come to find you in a bit, I need to sort out somewhere for you to stay," Paul told him, folding his arms over his chest, "You also won't get your gun and knife back for a couple of days, just a safety precaution,"

Malcolm nodded, "Alright, I'll see you later then," he replied, and Kal began to wheel him away.

Paul watched him go and then turned to Daryl. He took a step towards him and looked down at his cast, smiling when he saw that Hershel had drawn pictures on it, "How are you feeling, love?" he asked softly.

Daryl finally met his eyes from where he was still watching Malcolm, "Pissed as hell at you, but I'm gonna ignore that for now considerin' the circumstances," he mumbled.

"That's fair," Paul said, forcing himself to smile and then leaning forward to peck Daryl's cheek.

"When did you find him?" Maggie asked.

"Today, that's why I came home. He dislocated his ankle, I popped it back in for him, but Siddiq still needs to look at it," he replied, sucking in a deep breath, "So, I haven't had time to process that I just found my fucking long lost twin," he said, almost laughing as he ran a hand over his face because he didn't know what else he was supposed to do.

"Did you know he existed at all?" Maggie asked gently, reaching out and placing a hand on his shoulder.

Paul shook his head, "No. I was taken from my biological parents just before I was two… so I don't remember anything other than vague memories of being hit. I stayed in foster care until I was eighteen, I don't know about him. We might have been put in different homes, or he got adopted, I don't know. We haven't really talked,"

"How are you feeling?" Daryl asked softly, and he sounded like he was in shock too.

Paul sighed and shook his head, and he took a step forward and dropped his head onto Daryl's shoulder and loosely wrapped his arms around his waist but was careful not to put too much of his weight on him as Daryl's ankle would stop him from being able to hold them up. Daryl cupped the back of his head and pecked his hair.

"I don't know," Paul mumbled, and he just wanted to take a damn nap, "How am I supposed to be feeling?"

Maggie placed a hand on his lower back, "I don't think anyone can tell you that, sweetie. You've just got to give yourself some time to get your thoughts together,"

Paul hummed in reply and squeezed Daryl a little tighter.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There isn't going to be a lot of chapters to this fic, maybe one or two more x

"Are you going to go and see him?" Daryl asked him softly.

Paul looked up from where he was sat at the foot of the bed, a collection of colorful markers around him as he drew on Daryl's cast. Paul was a good drawer, and the cast on Daryl's ankle was ugly and bulky, so Paul was making it look a little prettier, being careful not to cover up any of Hershel's pictures though.

Paul shrugged and looked back down, being careful as he drew the ears of the wolf he'd been creating. He and Malcolm had been back at The Hilltop for several hours now, and Maggie understood that Paul needed some space, so she'd come to their trailer and told him to take his time and that she would get Malcolm settled into a room in Barrington House.

"He'll be wanting to see you," Daryl said gently.

Paul sighed, grabbing another color, "I know that he would be, but right now, I can't handle it, okay?" he replied, hearing the croak in his own voice, "I still trying to figure out how I feel about all this,"

"Paul, I understand," Daryl started.

Paul shook his head, "No you fucking don't!" he exclaimed, feeling tears spring in his eyes, "You've never had a twin you didn't know you had show up out of nowhere," he said, and he immediately felt terrible when Daryl lowered his head to look down at his hands, "Baby, I'm sorry," he murmured.

"It's okay," Daryl replied.

Paul shook his head and carefully made his way up the bed so that he was sitting beside Daryl's chest, "No, it's not," he said.

"It is," Daryl grunted.

Paul huffed and cupped Daryl's cheeks, he leaned down and shoved their lips together for a moment, pulling away when he knew that he had the man's attention.

"It's not okay," Paul murmured, "It's not okay for me to yell at your and take my frustrations out on you, don't ever think that it is. I'm sorry that I've been such an awful boyfriend, I mean, you broke your fucking ankle, and I took off,"

Daryl sighed, "Yeah, and I'm still mad at you 'bout that, but I know you need me right now with Malcolm being here," he said.

Paul ran a hand through his hair, "God, I don't know what to do," He almost whimpered, and then laid down.

Daryl wrapped his arms around him as Paul settled with his head on his chest, and his body pressed against Daryl's own. Paul felt Daryl kiss the top of his head, and then proceeded to comb his fingers through his hair.

"Thank you for being here," Paul murmured.

"Of course," Daryl replied.

 

* * *

 

Paul swallowed thickly as he walked down the hall to the bedroom that Maggie had told she'd put Malcolm in. It was the day after Paul and Malcolm had gotten back from the city, and Paul was finally done avoiding the man. He couldn't keep ignoring him.

His heart pounded in his chest as he lifted his hand and knocked on the door.

It opened only seconds later, and Paul's heart lurched at the sight of Malcolm's face, a face that was identical to his own. He didn't think he could ever get used to seeing that.

"Hi," Paul said, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Hey," Malcolm replied, smiling at him as he balanced himself on his crutches, "Was hoping you'd come,"

Paul nodded, "Sorry, I didn't yesterday; it's just..."

Malcolm shook his head, "Don't worry about it," he said, "It's overwhelming as hell, I get it,"

Paul sighed, "Yeah, it is,"

"You want to talk?" Malcolm asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Paul hesitated a moment, and then nodded, "Yeah, I do," he finally huffed out, "Balcony?"

"Sounds good,"

Paul turned on his heels and started walking down the halls to the large doors that led to the balcony, and he could hear Malcolm following behind him on his crutches. He pushed the large doors open when he reached them, and quickly made his way to the bench that sat near the railing of the balcony, and he sat himself down, looking out at The Hilltop beneath him.

Malcolm sat beside him after a few moments, "So," he started, carefully stretching his legs out, "Where do you stay?" he asked as he rested his crutches against the side of the bench.

Paul pointed to where some of the houses stood, replacing where old trailers had once stood, "Second from the left," he said.

"Just you? I noticed most people seem to be buddied up,"

"No," Paul started, feeling a swirl of nerves in his stomach. He hadn't been scared to come out to anyone in over a decade, but this felt different. Malcolm was his brother, even though they didn't know each other existed, they were still brothers, "I live there with my partner Daryl,"

Malcolm was quiet for a moment, "He was the one on the crutches with the cast, right?" he asked.

Paul nodded, "Yep, he did himself a little worse than you," he said, waiting to see if Malcolm was going to say anything about him being gay.

"He broke the ankle I'm guessing?"

Paul nodded, "Yep, fell off his horse," he said.

"Damn," Malcolm said, "So, how long have you two been together?"

"Coming up on four years," Paul replied, mentally making a mental note that he needed to think of something romantic to do for his and Daryl's anniversary.

"Wow," Malcolm said, nodding his head, "That seems almost impossible in this world,"

"Tell me about it," Paul murmured, finding himself wishing that he had a beer.

It was quiet for a moment, and Malcolm took it upon himself to bring up another topic, "So, you said you lived in the city before the outbreak, is that where you grew up too?"

Paul nodded, "Yeah, I grew up in group homes, in the care of the foster system," he said, thinking back on how awful his childhood had been, "What about you?"

"I was adopted when I was one, grew up in New York," Malcolm replied, finally looking at him but Paul could only hold the eye-contact for a few seconds.

"I was taken from my- our, birth parents when I was around eight months," he said.

"That means I would have been too," Malcolm replied, "I guess wherever we ended up first didn't have a problem with separating siblings,"

Paul hummed, resting his head back and huffing, "Yeah, you got adopted, and I didn't,"

Malcolm looked guilty for a moment, "What was it like growing up in foster care?"

"Fucking terrible," Paul laughed, shaking his head, "God, I can't think of one happy memory,"

"I'm sorry," Malcolm said softly, and paused for a moment, "You know, my upbringing didn't turn out to be all that great either. My dad... well, he was definitely something,"

"Just shows that it isn't fair either way,"

Malcolm sighed heavily, "It definitely is not,"

 

**Author's Note:**

> kudos & comments are loved & inspire me to write more!
> 
> Check out my tumblr where I post updates and like to talk about my ships! - @iiloulouii


End file.
